Sun Warrior

by P. C. Cast

  “Lizard died today after infecting a great sow with the skin sloughing disease. The beast then followed me to the place of the Others. I saw them capture her. I saw them rejoice for the food she brought them.”

  “Food that is as poisoned as was poor Lizard’s body,” Death finished for him.

  “And that is it.” Dove recognized Rebel’s voice. “Any of the Others who eat of the sow’s meat will be infected. My Lord, there will be no one left to stand against us!”

  Dove moved from the God’s hands to His feet, washing them carefully as she listened.

  “Their numbers will still be far more than ours, though they will be ill, and much weakened. And they will not expect an army such as ours led by a God.”

  “Yes! To war! To the City in the Trees!” the Reapers shouted.

  Dove felt Death lift His arm and they quieted. Soundless, she moved from the God to the first of the Reapers, the God’s Blade, Iron Fist, quickly and efficiently washing his hands and feet and trying not to flinch at the filth and grim that sloughed from his skin.

  “We are not yet ready. Over these next days the Others will grow weaker, and more divided, but we must grow stronger. I need each of you to gather any Hunter or Harvester who has not yet begun to cough blood. Take them to the forest, far enough in that the animals are not tainted with mutations and poisons but are pure and disease-free. Then do for them what I have done for you. Flay each creature and join it with a Harvester or Hunter so that they, too, may be changed into a Reaper, a Warrior, a demigod!”

  The men surged to their feet, and the bucket was knocked from Dove’s hands, spilling its foul water all over her skirt and legs.

  “Dove, go inside. Wash yourself. Wait in my bedchamber. You have made a mess here. Begone!” the God snapped at her.

  Dove stood. She faced Death. Slowly, gracefully, she sank into a deep bow. “Yes, my Lord.”

  She held her head high, walking with regal dignity from the God’s balcony as her Attendants rushed past her, carrying platters, fragrant with food, to the men. Dove went to her bedchamber, stepped within the veiled area, and crumpled to the floor. She put her face in her hands and her body quaked with misery as she wished she could shed tears and with them maybe shed some of the despair that pooled within her.

  “Mistress?” Lily’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “Are you well?”

  “No,” Dove moaned. “I am not well. I am broken.”

  “Oh, Mistress!” Lily stepped through the veil and knelt beside Dove. Hesitantly at first, Lily put her arms around Dove. When she didn’t resist, Lily hugged her, rocking slowly as Dove continued to tremble in her embrace. She sang a sweet, wordless melody that Dove recognized as a song young girls sang as they waited to be presented to the statue of the God when first they began to bleed. Somehow it calmed Dove. It also made her wonder at Lily’s age.

  “How old are you, Lily?” Dove asked, still resting her head against her Attendant’s shoulder.

  “I have known fourteen winters,” Lily said.

  “So young and kind,” Dove said. “Forgive me for ever speaking harshly to you.”

  “I knew it was not in your true nature, Mistress.…” Lily paused, and Dove could feel a new tension in her slim body.

  “Go ahead. Ask,” Dove said.

  “What are we going to do, Mistress? Is He really our God awakened?” Lily whispered frantically.

  “He is a God. There are others. He wants to bring one alive inside me, to take me over, just as He took over my Dead Eye.”

  “You’ll be gone? Just as our Champion is no more?”

  “Yes,” Dove said.

  “I—I will still serve you faithfully, Mistress,” Lily said with a sob. “Even when you are no more.”

  “Thank you, Lily. But for right now, I need a friend more than I need a servant,” Dove said. “Will you be my friend?”

  Lily hugged Dove more tightly. “I already am, Mistress. It just took you until now to know it. And I know it’s blasphemous to say, but I do not want a Goddess to take over your body.”

  “Neither do I, Lily, and after hearing what the God revealed to me today I am beginning to think the Goddess does not want it, either.” Dove lifted her head. Her hand found Lily’s soft face. Gently, Dove traced the lines of her cheek. “Will you help me, my friend?”

  “Yes, Mistress. What is it you would like my help with?”

  Suddenly Dove knew what she must do. “Have the other Attendants gathered sacrificial creatures as the God commanded?”

  “Of course, Mistress. They try to only capture creatures that do not appear to be sick—just as your Dead Eye commanded before the God silenced him.”

  “And there are creatures caught right now? Being held for the morning sacrifice?” Dove asked, feeling more and more hopeful.

  “Yes, Mistress. They are caged on the floor below us.”

  “Take me there—quickly and quietly. Draw no attention from the God or His Reapers.”

  Without another word Lily took Dove’s hand. They tiptoed on bare feet from the Chamber of the God to the broken staircase. Lily helped her Mistress pick her way slowly down to the floor below them, which was empty except for several cages, one of them filled with animals waiting to be sacrificed.

  “What have they captured?” Dove asked, running her hands over the wooden cages.

  “Pigeons,” Lily said. “Six of them. They are all in one cage.”

  Dove lifted her face, feeling for wind from one of the many broken windows. “Help me carry their cage to the opening, there, across from us.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” At the window Lily paused with Dove beside her. “Now what?” she asked.

  “Now we pray,” Dove said. She bowed her head and spoke the words hesitantly at first and then with growing confidence as she felt the rightness of it within her. “Great Goddess, I am Dove—the vessel your Consort, the God of Death, wishes you to inhabit after He forces you to awaken. But, Goddess, I believe you do not wish to be awakened, just as I do not wish to be possessed. If I am right, I beg your help, Great Goddess! Save me from Death, please. To show my respect and my fidelity to you, I release these creatures that were to be sacrificed to Death, and instead I give them to you, to Life, as I also give myself and my life to you!” Dove felt around until she found the latch that held the cage closed and then opened it. In a flurry of wings the pigeons flew from their jail, rushing through the window and into the night sky.

  “Did She speak to you?” Lily asked in a small, tremulous voice.

  “I can’t tell yet,” Dove said. “But I feel the rightness of this within me, and it is enough that I make this offering to the Goddess. Let us hope that She is content to sleep and does not wish to awaken.”

  Lily’s small hand closed over her Mistress’s. “I follow you, Mistress, and if you worship this Great Goddess, so will I.”

  “Then know this: I will never enter the City in the Trees, and I will never be made into a shell for a Goddess to claim, even if it’s against Her will.”

  “But the God just said that we will take the city in four days.”

  “He will. I will not.”

  Dove felt Lily nod slowly. “I understand.”

  “And still you will help me?”

  “I will.”

  “No one must know,” Dove said.

  “What of the other Attendants?” Lily asked.

  “Do you trust them completely?”

  Lily hesitated, and into the silent pause the sounds of woman’s giggles drifted from the God’s balcony above, punctuated by deeper murmurs of male voices speaking intimately, coaxingly, teasingly.

  “No,” Lily whispered sadly. “I do not trust them. They serve you, Mistress. They even like you. But all they can speak of is the City in the Trees and the new life awaiting us there.”

  “And is that not what you want, too?”

  “It was, until He took over our Champion.” Lily slid even closer to Dove and lowered her voice so that her Mistr
ess had to strain to hear her. “I have watched him. He does not treat you with the respect His Oracle deserves, as Dead Eye treated you. And if He can treat you so roughly, what chance do any of the rest of us have?”

  “Thank you, Lily.” Dove felt weak with relief.

  “Where shall we go, Mistress?”

  “Anywhere that is not ruled by Death.”

  * * *

  “Odysseus!” Thaddeus looked around, thoroughly annoyed. It was already dark. He’d found the perfect tree to spend the night in—it had a serviceable nest, one that hadn’t been discovered and packed with the sick or wounded. There were even blankets left on the sleeping pallet and they didn’t reek of smoke—or at least they didn’t reek too much of smoke. He’d rigged a rope sling and was ready to pull himself and Odysseus up for the first decent night’s sleep they’d had since that Scratcher bitch had caused the forest fire—and somehow he’d lost Odysseus. Again.

  Thaddeus put his hands on his hips, whistled sharply, and focused his mind on calling the Terrier to him.

  He felt Odysseus then and with a small jolt of surprise realized just how weak his connection to his Companion had become. Thaddeus began searching around the base of the tree in earnest, sending more energy to their bond.

  He heard the whimper before he saw the canine. Lifting the torch he was holding, Thaddeus moved toward the sound. Finally, Odysseus’s eyes caught the torch’s firelight.

  “There you are!” Thaddeus hurried to the Terrier. “What are you doing over here in the dark? I thought you were right behind me. Come on. I found a habitable nest. Let’s get up to it before some do-gooder decides to pack it with people.” Thaddeus slapped his thigh, expecting Odysseus to trot up to him, as usual. But the little Terrier only whined again and turned his head, trying to lick at the stained bandage wrapped around his flank.

  “Yeah, I know it’s sore. But if you don’t use it, it’ll never get better. Come on, Odysseus!” he commanded.

  With a pain-filled yelp, the Terrier staggered forward, dragging his wounded leg.

  Thaddeus sighed. “Oh, okay. I’ll carry you, but only this once.” He went to Odysseus, carefully picking him up—and noticed instantly how warm the Terrier felt. “Hey, I think you might be worse. How about some water?” He carried Odysseus back to the base of the tree, where he’d placed a pack filled with food and a water bladder. Thaddeus put Odysseus down, then poured water into his cupped hand, offering it to the canine.

  Odysseus lapped a little of the water before turning his head away.

  “Hey, you’re going to have to do better than that, but it can wait until we’re up there, snugly in bed.” Working efficiently, Thaddeus slung the pack over his shoulder, placed the torch in a holding spot built into the tree, and then picked up Odysseus, who felt limp and hot in his arms.

  Thaddeus tried not to worry. Instead, he focused on putting one hand over the other as he used the pulley system he’d rigged to lift himself and Odysseus up to the welcoming, familiar, arms of a giant pine.

  Then Thaddeus set about lighting a small hearth fire and heating up the rabbit stew he’d confiscated from one of the two remaining warrens while Odysseus lay silently at the end of the pallet.

  “Hey, buddy! Food’s ready!” Thaddeus called to Odysseus, but the Terrier barely raised his head before closing his eyes, tucking his nose, and going back to sleep. “Are you sure? I’m gonna eat yours if you don’t wake your butt up.”

  This time Odysseus didn’t even stir.

  Thaddeus frowned at his Companion as he ate his way through the stew. Odysseus was definitely not himself. “Because of that bitch. All of this is because of that bitch,” Thaddeus muttered softly. It really pissed him off. Odysseus was always at his side. Always listening to him. Always in agreement with his Companion. And now what was he? Tired … hurt … miserable. “All because of Mari.” Thaddeus spoke the name as if it tasted bitter. “Well, I’m not going to let her get away with it. She needs to be stopped, and Nik needs to pay for being a traitor.”

  Odysseus’s eyes slitted open and the Terrier sighed heavily, in agreement with his Companion.

  “That’s right!” Thaddeus bent forward, gently ruffling the dark fur around the Terrier’s ears. “We’re not going to let either of them get away with it.”

  Thaddeus leaned back, chewing his stew contemplatively. But how do I stop someone who can call down sunfire?

  You can have more. You deserve more. All you need is power …

  Unbidden, the words drifted through Thaddeus’s mind. He’d had the same thoughts earlier, when he’d confronted that arrogant asshole Wilkes.

  Of course he needed more power—enough to defeat sunfire. But how? How?

  “I’d give anything to get rid of Mari and Nik.” Thaddeus ground the words between clenched teeth as he watched his Odysseus sleep fitfully. “Anything…”

  CHAPTER 28

  “So, there are twenty-eight of us, not counting our Companions,” Antreas said.

  “That many? Really?” Sora looked pale.

  “You did invite everyone,” Antreas said.

  “They’re our Pack!” Mari almost barked at the cat man.

  Antreas held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I hear you. I didn’t mean anything—or at least not anything too bad. We’ll make it work, which is why I asked you to call this meeting.”

  “All right, we’re here,” Nik said, speaking slowly and reasonably. “We trust you. Tell us what we need to do.”

  Antreas ran his hand through his hair, making the top of it stand up in spiky tufts. “We need supplies, medications, and travel shelters for twenty-eight people and several animals. We need to go west—through the mountains—and into the Wind Rider Plains. It’s a journey of many weeks—months even, depending on the weather. If we don’t get through the Middle Pass of the Rockies before snow and ice close it, we all die.”

  “So, we must get through the pass. We are leaving soon. You said before we had enough time,” Nik said.

  “Yeah, that was before, when there were only a few of us—young, healthy, strong. You added more.” Antreas shook his head. “We’re going to need to move and move fast, or it will definitely be too late.”

  “No,” Mari said. “It isn’t too late. You said it yourself—before, we had enough time. So all we need is to move quickly. Don’t underestimate us. Earth Walkers are tough.”

  “They are,” Antreas said. “But that doesn’t change the terrain or the distance. Or the danger. The bigger the group, the more insects you draw.”

  “And the more people you have to fight them off,” Danita said.

  Mari sent her an appreciative look, thinking that she liked this young Moon Woman more and more. “Danita’s right. We might draw bugs—but we’ll kill them, too. Stop telling us about the problems. Help us find solutions.”

  Antreas sighed. “If you want to take all of these people there is only one viable solution. We must go down the river.”

  “The Killum?” Nik shook his head. “Bloody beetle balls, I hate that river.”

  “No, not the Killum. The river north of it—the Umbria, which heads eastward until it empties into Lost Lake. Once we cross the lake, we’ll be at the entrance to the Rocky Mountains.”

  “More water travel?” Nik sighed.

  “Yes, it’ll get us to the pass before snow closes it. It’ll also be easier traveling over water than over land—though not without a good amount of danger, but faster, so safer. Here.” Antreas moved to the table that sat not far from the central hearth of the birthing burrow. From a satchel he carried slung across his back he unrolled a length of rough mapmaking paper. On it Antreas pointed to waving lines, triangle markings, shaded mounds, and various other indecipherable scrawlings. “See here.” He pointed to a thick line that snaked in an east–west direction across part of the paper until it ran into a huge, strangely shaped blob of blue. Backing to the east of the blue spot was a clump of massive triangles with strange geometric markings thr
oughout. “This is the Umbria River, and this is Lost Lake.”

  O’Bryan spoke up. “I’m not ashamed to admit that the Umbria scares me, and Lost Lake?” He shuddered. “We’ve all heard stories of it. It’s haunted by the ancients. And it’s supposed to be bottomless.”

  “Of course it’s haunted and it might be bottomless, so it’s a good thing that we’re not traveling under it, but over it,” Antreas admitted. “Look, that river will get you past Skin Stealers, mutated plants, and a high desert that will make you want to drink your tears. The lake will save us weeks of travel, which means we’ll have time to make it through the Middle Pass before it traps us in a frozen world of blinding white with its own special brand of bugs.”

  “Great. Just what we need. More bugs,” Danita said.

  “You can handle them,” Antreas said. “Bast says you’re tough.”

  Mari watched the smile bloom on Danita’s face. “As usual, your Bast is right!” Danita said, meeting and holding the Companion’s gaze so frankly that it was Antreas who finally blushed and looked away.

  Mari cleared her throat, calling Antreas’s attention back. “So, we need to travel down the river and over that giant lake. Which means we need boats.” She sighed and looked from Sora to Danita, Isabel, and Jenna. As apprenticed Moon Women, Mari had insisted they attend what Sora was calling their first Pack Council meeting, along with O’Bryan, Nik, and Antreas. “We can make boats, right?”

  “Well, rafts, yes,” Isabel said. “But they’re more for just trading with Clan Carpenter and floating our goods down Crawfish Creek to them.”

  “Rafts will help carry our supplies, and they can also be used as litters when we do have to travel overland,” Antreas said. “But we’ll need real boats—though they don’t have to be big.”

  “Clan Fisher could teach us how to build them,” Danita said.

  “But they’re days away on the coast,” Jenna said. “And from what Antreas says we definitely don’t have time for boatbuilding.”